Lingueglietta
by Sony31
Summary: Total AU. Lingueglietta was the name of the little, strategic hamlet he lived in and were he grew up. Little did he knew that soon a little eddy wind should blow into his life. And she carried the name Lorelai Gilmore. LIT
1. Prolog

**Disclaimer**: I own some of the characters in this story, but that's all. Nothing related to Gilmore Girls belongs to me. I don't know who owns GG now, but whoever it is: Lucky you!

**A/N**: Not my first fanfiction, but the first I try to translate in english. My native language is german and normaly I write in german. This story already exists on an other side, although not in english. Thought, I give it a try. So, please be nice, I try really hard. Sorry for all the mistakes in here, I hope my english gets better soon.  
Reviews would be great! Because they make happy! Verrrrry happy! _'harhar' _Thanks a lot. :)

**Summary**: Total AU - Lingueglietta was the name of the little, strategic hamlet he lived in and were he grew up. Little did he knew that soon a little eddy wind should blow into his life. And she carried the name Lorelai Gilmore. LIT

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

_Lingueglietta_

**Prolog**

Lingueglietta was the name of the little strategic hamlet he lived in and where he grew up. It was situated at the Italian Riviera, near San Remo and not far away from the French-Italian border. The small, romantic town lived from tourism during the hot months in the summer. That was one of the reasons why there were always people around in Lingueglietta.

His father was Italian; his mother was born in America. From his early childhood he spent the hot summer-months in his true home country – Italy – and the cold winter in his second home in the United States. New York to be exact.

Nowadays he spent most of his time in the small town at the Italian Riviera. He only came back to the United States when he had to settle business things in his New York restaurant, or when he wanted to visit his parents, who now lived there permanently. Occasionally – he never would say it out loud – he even got a little homesick and just wanted to see his second home country.

But - as previously mentioned - most time of the year, he spent in Lingueglietta or in San Reno where he owned another well running _Gourmet_-restaurant.

He lived in a not especially large, however beautiful mansion with view over the sea, which he had bought a few years ago, after his parents had finally moved to the States. Jess Mariano loved his life exactly like it was, and he had no intention to change anything about it. How mistaken he was if he believed his live would remain like it was. Because soon, a little eddy wind should blow into his life. And she carried the name Lorelai Gilmore.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

"_Benvenuto all'aeroporto di Nizza. __Vi auguriamo di godere un buon soggiorno_." The woman's voice from the loudspeakers spoke in fast Italian.

Italy. How in the world did it happen that she was in Italy? France would've been okay, England too, or Spain. She could speak all of those languages.

However she understood not a single word of Italian. She didn't even know what to say to introduce herself!

But her boss – the conductor of the _Guggenheim_ museum in New York – had meant she would be exactly the right person for this job. Together with a coworker of the _Peggy Guggenheim Collection_ in Venice she had the task to put together an exhibition of famous arts from all over the world in a new, never before seen way. The two of them had to open a smaller Guggenheim in San Remo and organize things up to the opening and some weeks beyond. Normally a task with sufficient challenges for a Lorelai Gilmore. If there wouldn't be this teeny-tiny problem: Italian.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

"Matteo Bernardo Rovelli! Don't you dare touch one of those apples! I swear to the holy mother of God, I beat you with the broom out of this house!" The voice belonged to an old woman who was sitting in a wooden chair on the terrace of her house. She was screaming at a young man who just wanted to steal himself a piece of the delicious fruit out of the basket right beside the lady.

"But … Nonna Katalina …" he sighed and tried it again, only a second later he withdrew his hand with pain-distorted face and wagged it around in the air.

"For heavens sake! That hurt! How does Papa Giogio bear with you? " He groaned and looked at the old woman.

In the same moment a cheerful laughter rang out from the garden gate and another young man stepped on the terrace to join the arguing couple.

"Ciao Nonni," he greeted his grandmother with a kiss on the cheek she raised in the air for him. Afterwards he took the peeled apple that Nonna delayed to him.

Matteo observed the whole scene and immediately began to whine, but the woman prevented it with her words.

"Sush, you ill-bred rascal! He's my only grandson and you're just his best friend."

Insulted he crossed his arms over his chest and started to sulk playfully.

Matteo Rovelli was the exact opposite of a typical Italian. Although through his veins flowed pure Italian blood, he had short blond hair and the most stunning ice-blue eyes somebody could have. His skin however had this olive glow which was so typical for southern countries. And his figure revealed that he loved – like every full blooded Italian – to kick a ball over a field together with ten of his comrades.

"How comes you're already in Lingueglietta?" Jess wanted to know, "Didn't you tell me you wouldn't return before the first large summer celebration?" He smirked and took a heartful bite from his fruit.

"You're so lucky, _amico_; because you're gonna have the pleasure of my company almost daily now, because I'll have to be here for business-reasons." Now it was Matteos turn to grin. At the same time he snatched himself the last bite of apple from Jess's hand.

"And what does Mrs. Rovelli say to all those things?"

The blond man shot a destroying look at his best friend and explained: "She – naturally – is inspired. Since we moved down to Venice she whines day after day after day how she misses this town and wants to come back. And because I couldn't stand all of this whining shit any longer I said to myself that she should have her will. And I have finally my peace again. That's the reason why I accepted the job in San Remo."

The next moment Nonna Katalina - surprisingly for both men – held out a piece of peeled apple to her grandson's best friend. Matteo took it, more out of curiosity then anything else, and regarded Jess with an asking view. He just shrugged.

It was the old woman herself who cleared up why she did what she did.

"That is the first wise decision of your life, Matteo; I mean after becoming Joanna's husband in the first place." She rose from her seat, put the knife aside and cleaned her apron with her hands. Then she looked kind of grumpy at the two young men.

"Surely you two rascals want to stay for dinner. And like I know your grandfather, Jess, he's gonna be highly pleased about it."

Jess's grandfather – as everybody only knew him as '_Papa Giorgio_' – chose exactly this moment to enter Nonna Katalina"s herb garden from the adjacent vineyard through another garden gate. He saw the two young men and the second after a pleased laughter was heard.

Nonna only rolled her eyes. Although she was happy about the company, even she would never admit it.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

Truth to be told she didn't quite believed it when her boss, Mr. Humphrey, told her about the "_amazing apartment_" in San Remo. But he didn't lie, at least not about the "_amazing_". Because you couldn't really say "_apartment_" to the small, but fantastic mansion. From her bedroom balcony she had a wonderful view over the port and the sea. To the house belonged a small garden with a little terrace where a wooden table found place, together with matching seats. The air here was filled with the smell of the sea and of wild herbs which grew in the garden. Rory had to be honest: She had fallen in love from the very first moment she laid eyes on this beautiful building. Mr. Humphrey actually hadn't promised too much.

Her work would start in a few days and until than she had enough time to explore the area in and around of San Remo.

But first she simply wanted something to eat, an enormous cup of coffee, and a telephone so she finally could call Lorelai. She surely already sat on hot coals because she wanted to know about everything: How was Italy? How was the coffee there? When could she _finally_ visit her most favorite daughter – even if she's only been there for four hours?

Rory snatched her keys and purse and disappeared through the door into the streets of San Reno. Without knowing that the adventure of her life had just begun.

**TBC**

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

_Benvenuto all'aeroporto di Nizza. Vi auguriamo di godere un buon soggiorno_.  
Welcome at the airport of Nice. We wish you a wonderful stay.


	2. Ciao, Bella!

**Disclaimer**: I own some of the characters in this story, but that's all. Nothing related to Gilmore Girls belongs to me. I don't know who owns GG now, but whoever it is: Lucky you!

**A/N**: Oh, THANK YOU! I'm so happy you like it and I was so happy about your reviews. Look at me ... "_happy dancing_" ... thanks a lot!  
Sorry for the long wait for the first chapter. My life is at the moment kind of ... hectic ... I think. I try really to update sooner, but please be kind. I definitly end this story, even if it takes me a long, long, loooooong time.  
Again, thanks a lot and I hope you can enjoy this chapter too. Not much of Litness here, but it's coming soon, I swear. Just hang on. "_hihi_"  
And don't forget: Reviews are making happy! Verrrrrrrry happy:D

**Summary**: Total AU - Lingueglietta was the name of the little, strategic hamlet he lived in and were he grew up. Little did he knew that soon a little eddy wind should blow into his life. And she carried the name Lorelai Gilmore. LIT

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

_**Lingueglietta**_

**Chapter 1 - Ciao, Bella!**

As much as she fell in love with this country in the last couple of days … its population was a totally special thing; at least the male part of it. She had sworn to herself whichever guy had the stupid idea of whistling after her would have her hand in his face. Because she would slap him. Hard.

The last three days this seemed to happen around twenty times per hour. In her opinion it happened twenty times per hour too often - even if it had flattered her a little bit the first times.

However, the female part of Italy had made up for all the shit the male part did. Just last night – when she had gone past a small flower shop on her way home – she ran into an old friend from college. Frederika had spent an exchanging year in America at the time Rory still went to Yale. They met one day at the library were they reached for the same book. The two immediately became friends.

Riks – as Rory called her like that from the very beginning – however had only been able to spend four months in the states because afterwards her father got sick and soon thereafter deceased. Thereupon she wasn't able to start her studies again and began to work in the small flower shop. It turned out that this was exactly the work she really wanted to do.

Rory hadn't even known that Frederika Torinni lived here in San Remo. To be honest she hadn't really thought about the old friend in a very long time.

This thought shot through her head while she licked her ice cream and walked in the direction of Frederikas loft.

Her eyes traveled from house to house, from flower pots over lines full of laundry, and back to old, already partial rusty signs which showed the different handicrafts offered in the shops underneath.

She was just about to round a corner as someone bumped into her and thus she run into someone else by mistake. The extra creamy chocolate-chip ice in her hand almost distributed itself on the shirt of the stranger.

"_Mi scusi_!" She immediately apologized, and looked up briefly. When she saw the man she knew that he only could be Italian. He had the perfect appearance of an Italian.

"_Non c'é problema_," he answered friendly. Afterwards they smiled once at each other and went on in different directions.

For a second she thought that she knew him. But just as she finished this thought, it was already forgotten.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

Jess was in a hurry. He still had to drop by his restaurant before he could rush to the Villa Ormond where the annual festival _San Remo Immagine Jazz_ took place and for which he had received three tickets. One for himself; the other two for Mr. and Mrs. Rovelli.

He just bent around the corner – nearly fifty meters from his restaurant – when someone bumped into him. A young woman seemed to be pushed and fell directly into him. He immediately recognized in the way she expressed the apology "_Mi scusi_!" that she wasn't Italian. When he looked closer he noticed too, that she also hadn't the smallest similarity with Italian people. Her skin was much too bright. In addition such unusual blue eyes couldn't be found in this area. Probably she was just a simple tourist.

"_Non c'é problema_," therefore he answered friendly. They smiled briefly at each other and then disappeared in different directions. For a second he remembered those intensive blue eyes but they were already pushed into the background the moment after, just like they'd have never existed.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

Frederika lived in an apartment you could've also call a shoe box. Together with her tomcat Papageno she had lived there for almost three years. Since she and Nico had broken up and she had left the common apartment. Among other things her main reason to leave it to Nico was because she never ever could have afforded it alone anyway.

But to be honest there were two really great things about her shoe box. First of all the flower shop where she worked was in walking distance. Secondly she just loved her loft. It was her realm - her own small world.

Her twin sister had called her crazy and had almost begged her on her knees that she should finally search for a more decent apartment.

But Rika, how most of her friends called her, had declined and stopped listening to her sisters complains. She just loved it too much to leave here – as previously mentioned.

Papageno chose just this moment to stroke around her legs because he was hungry, again. All he did the whole long day was eat. He was the most gluttonous tomcat Frederika had seen in her life. It almost wasn't possible for him to move any longer. He looked like a fluffy, silver-grey ball. But she didn't mind. She liked it when he tried to jump from the floor on the couch to keep her company while she read. He couldn't do it, because his fat belly was in his way and he was hanging halfway off the edge of the couch. That just was Papageno.

"Now more food Pap. You've already eaten enough good stuff for today." The young woman grinned at the tomcat and shook her head once. A high pitched noise escaped from the pet but Frederika remained adamant. Papageno recognized it fast, because the second after, he just disappeared. It was a miracle for her how he managed to disappear so fast every time although he was so fat.

The ringing of her phone ended this thought for her.

"Torinni." She clutched the phone between her ear and her shoulder.

"Did you borrow my black cocktail-dress without asking me?" The voice on the other line sounded hectic.

"Oops," was everything Frederika could say. In the same time she prepared herself for the following screaming.

"Rika!" The other person was so not amused.

Although they were twins, Frederika and her sister were the total opposite of each other.

Rika was a florist. Her sister was a wife.

She had a tomcat. Her sister had a husband.

Her sister loved the beach. She loved the mountains.

Her sister planned to have kids in the near future. Frederika was happy when she knew what she wanted to wear the next day.

And there were a lot more of those small and bigger things the sisters were different about.

But that didn't mean they weren't working as a team, because they did. Frederika's brother-in-law was very often one of those unlucky guys who had to feel the collected powers of the sisters.

Fate had a good day and the doorbell rang.

"I'm so sorry, dearest sister, but there's someone at my door. Just take your red dress. It looks better on you anyway. See ya tomorrow!" She laughed and hung up, not even giving the other one a chance to answer. Afterwards she sprinted to the door and opened it.

"Ciao, Bella!" was her greeting for the dark-haired friend. She opened the door a little wider so Rory had the possibility to come in.

"Hi Riks." The young woman was in an inspired mood and let out a friendly laugh at the Italian in front of her. She went through the door and an eye blink later, a silver-grey, fluffy ball rubbed himself around her legs.

"Rory let me introduce you to Papageno, my lacy, gluttonous tomcat. Pap, this is Rory from the States." While Frederika said it, a huge smile was plastered on her face.

Afterwards she offered her guest a refreshment and pointed to the couch so she could sit down.

Rory did what she was told to and while Frederika got the beverages from the small, adjacent kitchen, the young woman looked around the small living room interested. Where ever she looked there were photos of people, buildings, animals, landscapes … - The American already rose again soon after she sat down. She went toward a wood-disguised wall and regarded the pictures in detail.

Papageno was on some of them. Others showed people of which Rory didn't know. Often she could see the beach and the mountains.

But suddenly one particularly picture took all of her attention. There was something special about it, some singleness. Somehow, it felt like a charm spread out from it and it wasn't possibly for Rory to take her eyes away.

"You like my work? You surely know that I love to take pictures in my spare time." Frederika stood behind her with a glass of grape juice in her hand, and smiled at the wall full of pictures. Rory turned her attention to her friend.

"Who's that? In the picture there? But of all questions: _Where_ is that?" Rory was so fascinated she wanted to know everything about it. Rika took a few steps forward to see which photo her American friend meant. One second after she discovered it, she burst into laughter.

"Sure! It's always the same! I don't know why but I think there's something magical about this picture because everybody immediately is occupied by it," she shook her head, but continued just moments later, "It was my very first picture I ever took. I mean the first one I ever took and then produced. It's in my hometown, Lingueglietta. And the person is nobody else but Lingueglietta's institution herself …" She held her breath and finally said with a wide grin, "That's _Nonna Katalina_."

For some moments it was totally quiet. Rory still looked at the picture of the old lady who was peeling apples, and the sunlight fell through the climbing ivy so it looked like the shadows where dancing over the fruits and the woman herself.

"Uh Oh! Rory! We have to hurry or else we're too late!" Frederika clapped her hands happily. Rory's attention went from the picture to her old friend. She noticed just then that she had looked at the photo for over ten minutes.

"What are our plans anyway, Riks?" She smiled and slipped her arm under the one of the dark-haired woman.

Frederika laughed and a mischievous grin spread over her features.

"We're doing what every Italian person is doing on Saturday night: _soccer_!"

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

"Didn't you tell me that you wanted to wear your black dress?" He looked kind of confused at his wife. Just yesterday she went into raptures that she finally fit in again.

"Nevertheless I decided to wear the red one," her voice was brief and concise. Thus – for her – end of discussion.

"Rika borrowed it again without asking, didn't she?" He laughed and encircled her waist with his arm. She just rolled her eyes, however a small smile appeared on her face.

He opened the front door of their apartment and they stepped out in the warm summer night. They had to meet his best friend in five minutes and had therefore to hurry because it was a foot march from nearly ten minutes to the meeting point.

Matteo knew that Jess would be mad because there was one thing he didn't like; it was unpunctuality. And that they would be unpunctual was now already a fact. Thanks to Frederika Torinni, his sister-in-law and the twin sister of his wife.

**TBC**

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

_Mi scusi._  
I'm sorry.

_Non c'é problema._  
Don't worry./No problem.


	3. Parla italiano?

**Disclaimer**: I own some of the characters in this story, but that's all. Nothing related to Gilmore Girls belongs to me. I don't know who owns GG now, but whoever it is: Lucky you!

**A/N**: Guys ... you are AWESOME!!! It's so great that you like the story and I'm really, really happy about it. REALLY happy! And I LOVED your reviews! Thank you sooooo much. :)  
What can I tell you about the new chapter? It's not that exciting, like the whole story, but I have to say, that I like it. And it was so fun to write. It's great to write a story about a country you don't really know but you love. So, please be nice, I try really hard. Same for my english. I had a hard time to translate all the sentences and there are definitly some sentences which make no sense at all. Sorry.  
All said, let's start with the stuff you're here for. Have fun!  
Love & Peace!  
Sony

**Summary**: Total AU - Lingueglietta was the name of the little, strategic hamlet he lived in and were he grew up. Little did he knew that soon a little eddy wind should blow into his life. And she carried the name Lorelai Gilmore. LIT

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

_**Lingueglietta**_

**Chapter 2 - Parla** **italiano?**

Oh my goodness, that wasn't a museum, that was a ramshackle hut! How in the world would she create a _Guggenheim_ out of it in just a few months? You couldn't simply ram a _Guggenheim_ into the soil. And there was more than a miracle necessary to make an appropriate Guggenheim out of this building; or should she say ruin?

Now that she was thinking about that, she noticed that her new colleague from the _Peggy-Guggenheim-Collection_ still wasn't anywhere to see. Typical men, they were always late.

In just that moment an attractive, blond guy hurried from the parking lot to the "_entrance_" of the museum.

"Mi scuris. Mi scusi." He apologized and started immediately to ramble on in Italian. Naturally, Rory didn't understand a single word. Instead she looked curiously at him and tried really hard to get at least something he was talking about.

Finally – at some point – he recognized that she couldn't understand him at all and started to laugh. He looked at her and asked: "_Parla Italiano?_"

When there was one sentence Rory could remember, it was the one someone asking her if she could speak Italian. Immediately she shook her head and the man in front of her laughed again, in a very nice way.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Gilmore, but I didn't know that you don't understand Italian." He smiled at her and reached out his hand. Rory was so happy about the fact that it was possible for her to actually _speak_ with her new colleague in the future – because now she knew that this man only could be her colleague – that she took his hand joyfully and started to shake it nearly violently.

"Hi. Hi, I'm Rory. Gilmore. Rory Gilmore. But you can call me Rory. We have to work together for quite a long time so everything's gonna be easier when we're on friendly terms, don't you think?"

"I just wanted to suggest the same thing." He smiled again, "My name's Matteo. Matteo Rovelli." After that he turned his eyes toward the building.

"For heavens sake", a smirk appeared on his face, "I remembered the building wasn't the newest, but I didn't know that it got that much worse since my last visit."

Rory smiled too, and a sigh escaped her. She knew there was a lot of work to be done, but at least she got along very well with her new colleague.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

Monday was Frederikas day off. So she decided in the morning to drive together with her sister to Lingueglietta to help her in the house.

The mother of the twins' died in a car accident when the girls where only three years old. When their father died too, Joanna inherited the house and Frederika the fisher-boat. The boat – in good condition – was sold really soon, but Joanna decided together with her husband to keep the house and renovate it.

Now, several years later, finally the time had come. The renovation was done and the couple finally could move from the way to small apartment in San Remo into their own house. The moving-company was ordered for the next weekend.

In the meantime it was already time for lunch and Joanna and Matteo's living room was a lot more comfortable then before. But the sisters decided they worked enough for the day and wanted to visit Nonna Katalina, especially because Frederika hasn't seen her in such a long time.

The two dark-haired women just went up the small hill to Giorgio and Katalina Mariano's house when they already heard the voice of the old lady.

"Giorgio! You're taking these pills right now or you're gonna meet me together with my cooking spoon!"

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

The day went by fast. She arranged some appointments with the Italian authorities because they had to negotiate with them for the building permits, for the stuff with the sewer and various other things. She regarded offers from different constructors and arranged a meeting with the office for protection of historical monuments because they had to start soon with the renovation of the old building. Besides, they already spoke a little bit about some works of art. All in all Rory was quite happy about the results of only one day.

"How is it possible that a woman, who speaks English, French and Spanish fluently, lands in Italy?" Matteo asked her after they stopped working for the day and were on their way to their cars.

"Mr. Humphrey thought it would be a great idea. I told him, he was crazy and that he should take my colleague Ilona, because her mother is Italian and she speaks the language perfectly, but the boss meant, he didn't wanted anybody else for this job then me. So I said yes, although I can't a single word. At least it has some similarities to Spanish." She had to laugh at the thought of the talk between Mr. Humphrey and herself.

They stood together in front of their cars for a few more minutes and talked, before they said their good-byes and drove off in different directions.

Fifteen minutes later Rory arrived at her house, put her bag away and sank onto the couch. She was tired but at the same time she didn't wanted to sleep. So after several moments she grabbed her handbag and left her new home again.

She walked through the streets of San Remo when a wonderful smell hit her nose. It was that moment she remembered that her last meal was lunch and like a sign her stomach growled out of hunger. Rory decided to follow the smell and soon after she was standing in front of a chic, small restaurant. On the tables were red tablecloths and white candles in dark green bottles. The part of the terrace, which led to the rear outside, she could discover was considered by a white wood lattice which was covered with wine and ivy. She could hear gentle, native music from the inside and eager waiters rushed from table to table.

Rory didn't consider it for a long time, stepped through the main door and waited in the front for someone to take her to an empty table.

"_Buona sera, signiorina!_" The greeting came from an elder, nice looking man, just seconds after she stepped in. She greeted back and smiled at him. Afterwards he led her to a table on the terrace where she was able to see half of San Remo and further outside on the sea up to the horizon.

"_Mille grazie_", she thanked the man, who departed again from the table with a small bow. Afterwards she just let the view affect her. Immediately she knew that she had found her very favorite place in San Remo.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

All other guests had already left the restaurant, only Rory sat at her table, a book in front and a glass of wine beside her. It was late, the sun already disappeared at the horizon and the night air already cooled down a little bit. It was still pleasantly warm nevertheless.

The young American was so into her reading that she first didn't notice the waiter at all. He already served her the whole evening. He stepped to her table and told her politely that the restaurant unfortunately closed now.

"Oh, I'm sorry … ahm … _mi scusi_", she excused herself quickly, took out her purse and handed him her credit-card. He nodded at her with a smile and disappeared afterwards again inside the building. In the meantime Rory collected the rest of her stuff.

Finally the waiter returned with her card and her bill. Afterwards he offered her his hand to help her from her chair and stepped back from the terrace door, so she could get through it first.

A few moments later Rory just wanted to step through the main door to get out of the restaurant as the book in her hands slipped on the floor. She bent and wanted to waive it, but a pair of other hands already reached for it and lifted it from the valuable parquet.

"_Tieni, prego!_" The guy in front of her was smiling, Rory recognized him immediately. He was the Italian whom she nearly lubricated all her ice cream over the shirt. Unfortunately she didn't understand a single word he said.

"_Mi dispiace, ma non capisco l'Italiano._" She smiled back and tried really hard to speak the Italian sentence possibly, without a lot of an American accent.

He too recognized her immediately. She was the tourist with the incredible blue eyes from the passenger zone, who nearly dropped her ice cream all over him.

"_Allora l'inglese?_" His smile changed to a charming smirk. Rory just heard the word '_English'_ and started to nod excitedly.

"It doesn't make life easier if you're in Italy and don't understand a single word of its language." A broad smile was on his face as he talked to her again-this time in perfect English. Rory could hear the slight New York accent. She nearly was indignant, however had to laugh about the situation.

"You're terrible! Making fun of me although you can imagine that I don't speak a single word Italian!" She wanted it to sound like she was mad at him, but couldn't stop herself from laughing. Afterwards she finally removed her book from his hands.

Meanwhile Jess thought that the young woman opposite him was extremely amusing. And apparently she had an excellent taste concerning the choice of her books. And not only the choice of her books, but those of her restaurants to.

"They asked you to finally leave, too?" Rory tried to make light conversation. Apparently she liked to talk to him. She had to be honest to herself: It would be a shame if she didn't took the chance to try to learn somewhat more about this good looking man in front of her.

"Ahm … yes … exactly," he answered after a few seconds. Inside he smirked broadly. It was funny she automatically assumed that he, too, was just a guest here. He opened the door for her. She noticed it with a smile and slipped past him through the door.

Afterwards they stood in front of the restaurant and neither of them knew what to say anymore.

"You're here often?" Rory finally tried to break the silence.

"Almost daily." It wasn't a lie. Speaking to her got nicer from minute to minute.

A broad smile appeared on Rory's face, before she stepped back a little and explained: "Well, then – probably – we're gonna see each other more frequently in the future. It would be my pleasure."

He smiled back and returned the compliment. In the same moment he thought that she – unfortunately – was already on the way back to her hotel. Or wherever she lived.

"Have a very nice evening. It was great to meet you", thus, with a smile, she turned around and walked away. But before she stepped around the corner she turned again in his direction and meant with a grin: "And I'm so sorry that I nearly smeared my extra creamy chocolate-ice-cream all over you when we met the last time." And with this she disappeared, leaving Jess with no chance to respond, but with a mischievous smirk on his face.

**TBC**

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

_Mi scusi._ - I'm sorry.

_Parla italiano?_ - Do you speak italian?

_Buona sera, signiorina!_ - Good evening, Miss!

_Tieni, prego!_ - Here, for you.

_Mi dispiace, ma non capisco l'italiano._ - I'm really sorry, but I don't understand italian.

_Allora l'inglese?_ - Maybe english?


	4. Figli miei!

**Disclaimer: **I own some of the characters in this story, but that's all. Nothing related to Gilmore Girls belongs to me. I don't know who owns GG now, but whoever it is: Lucky you!

**A/N: **You have NO idea how happy I am that this chapter finally is done!!! It was so hard and so much work and at some point I really wanted to just give up. But than I remembered you nice feedback and I said to myself that I'm gonna do it and I can make it work and at some point this chapters gonna be finished. And ... tatatataaaaa ... here it is!!!  
Big, big, BIG thanks to my reviewers. I love you guys!!!  
What can I tell about the new chapter? Let me think ... a little more Lit in here. And the time moved on so it's a couple of weeks/a few months later then the last chapter. Just so you know and don't wonder.  
For the rest of the chapter just one word: ENJOY:D  
Sorry for the long wait! "_me is sorry_"  
Love and Peace,  
Sony

**Summary**: Total AU - Lingueglietta was the name of the little, strategic hamlet he lived in and were he grew up. Little did he knew that soon a little eddy wind should blow into his life. And she carried the name Lorelai Gilmore. LIT

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

_**Lingueglietta**_

**Chapter 3 – Figli** **miei!**

Her Italian had become so good in the last couple of weeks that she no longer had any problem to understand somebody. She wasn't that good in speaking herself, but got better from day to day. Actually she hardly spoke any English anymore. Only when she was on the phone with somebody from the States, or when tourists asked her for the way. It looked like she no longer was looking like a tourist herself.

The work became more from day to day, too. Nevertheless nearly every evening Rory found the time to go to the small restaurant and enjoy the unbelievable variety of pasta, pizza and several other delicate Italian meals.

The waiters already knew her by name, the little table was reserved and as soon as she entered the restaurant a glass of Chianti was prepared for her. Even if they weren't comparable with one another, the _Mariano_ reminded her somehow of _Luke's Diner_ in Stars Hollow.

Sometimes she even met the good looking Italian then they sit together at the table, which she already called "_the Rory-Table_", ate dinner and talked lively about God and the world. It was funny, but they still didn't even know the name of the other.

However, this evening she didn't have the time for a visit to the restaurant. Frederika had invited her for pizza in the small hometown of her friend. The pizza-baker would be nobody else then Nonna Katalina. And Rory was already looking forward to finally meet the old lady.

They would meet up with Riks's twin sister, her husband and Nonna Katalinas grandson, all of which she'd never met - at least, that was what she believed.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

Soon after Rory knew better.

Eight o'clock – on the second – the bell rang and Rory opened the door, just to find the sparkling blue eyes, the impotently grin and the blond hair of none other then Matteo Rovelli in front of her.

Why didn't she think about the possibility that her co-worker could be Frederika's brother-in-law? Life _always_ consisted of coincidences.

Joanna, Riks twin-sister, turned out to be an extremely kind person, too, and the American already knew that she would really enjoy this evening.

Much laughing and twenty minutes later Matteo parked his car in front of a rustic, tasteful house beside a big vineyard and a few hundred feet away from the center of Lingueglietta. The wind already carried over a wonderful smell from the garden behind the house.

"Kids! Finally! It's about time! You're late! I was afraid the Pizza would burn!" The voice belonged to an old lady who suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

"Nonna Katalina! Why are you always mad with me? What did I do to you that you always insult me?" Matteo teased her and playfully grabbed his shirt right over his beating heart.

"You're a hoodlum, Matteo. Just like my damn grandson!" she told him off, but on her face was a small smile.

The young man laughed hard, because now he knew – out of The Nonnas sentence – that Jess wouldn't be there. Probably something urgent came up.

"Nonni, may I introduce?" now it was Frederika's turn to grin and only seconds later Rory was in front of the old lady, "This is Lorelai Gilmore, a friend from the United States. Just today we discovered she's also Matteo's colleague from the _Guggenheim_."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Nonna Katalina. I heard a lot about you." The young woman smiled and shook hands with the lady.

"Lorelai, indeed, the pleasure is all mine. And now let's eat!" The Nonna nodded, smiled once briefly at Rory and than turned around.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

The young American never thought that a simple dinner like the one of the old lady and her husband could be so much fun.

Just moments after the small group sat down at the table an old man stepped from the vineyard into the garden und called out a happy "_Ciao, figli miei!_" Frederika whispered in Rory's direction that this man was Papa Giorgio. He welcomed everybody with a warm handshake but when he reached the young woman he stopped.

"A new face, if I'm not wrong." He smiled.

"Indeed", Rory smiled back, "I'm Rory. Rory Gilmore."

"Good evening, Rory. I'm Giorgio Mariano", he introduced himself and finally shook her hand too. But on her face appeared a curious look.

"Did you say '_Mariano'_?" She wasn't sure she heard right. Papa Giorgio nodded. And Rory started to smile slightly.

"What a coincidence! The name of my favorite restaurant in San Remo is '_Mariano'_." Her smile never left her features, but she was – again – kind of confused when suddenly all the others started to laugh.

"Child, that's nice to hear. I'm happy every time someone tells me they like my grandson's restaurant." Nonna Katalina interrupted the laughter with a small smile of her own and a short nod. Afterwards she turned to the rest of her guests and "_ordered_" to finally start eating.

Rory was very much surprised to say something against it and started with her Pizza.

But – of course – Matteo wasn't as wise as the American and wanted to know (again in a teasing voice) if they shouldn't wait for Hoodlum No. 2 because Mr. Owner-of-the-restaurant still wasn't here.

For that he got hit on the hand with the wooden cooking spoon and a very dark glare from the old lady. He still grinned but didn't make the mistake twice to say something about Nonni's grandson.

Finally everybody was eating. And – for her – it was the very best meal since … _ever_.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

The following day was a Saturday and the head of the young American felt like it would burst in thousand pieces. Papa Giorgios wine was a marvelous droplet, but definitely had its side-effects. The last time she counted the empty bottles the previous evening she listed twelve of them. More proof for the hard-drinking Italians.

Although her pain was bad, Rory rolled out of bed around lunch-time. She took a long, very refreshing shower, threw in two pills against the headache, dressed herself, grabbed her copy of "_Anna Karenina_" and rushed out.

Five minutes later Rory marched through the doors of the restaurant, greeted Zappo and Bernardo and seated herself at "_her_" table. It looked like she was the only costumer at this time.

Her place was situated in the shadows and a small breeze blew on the terrace, which she was thankful for because it was freakin' hot. Her eyes traveled once again over the sea. She could see – in the far distance – the white sails of all different kind of boats, but she too recognized that the traffic on the main road along the port was slow-moving.

"Today you're an early guest. You know, it's not even three in the afternoon?" In the last couple of weeks she learned to remember this voice. It wasn't very hard to remember though.

With a smile Rory turned from the ocean to the attractive Italian, who stepped just seconds ago to her table, two glasses of wine in his hands. One of the glasses found its place in front of her.

"_Grazie_, but I think I have to refuse today. I'm sorry." Her smile turned into a grimace and she pushed the glass a little away from her.

"No Chianti today?" he was curious, "Hard night?" It was his turn to grin. She saw it and thought that it was one of the first things she ever noticed about him.

In this moment she remembered the funny coincidence the evening before and with a happy laugh she started to tell him.

**-o-o-o-o-o- **

Jess sat down in the chair opposite from her, because he liked to spend time with this woman. She was funny, intelligent and – another great point – really attractive. Could a man wish for more?

Jess never was the sort of man who had every weekend another woman in his bed. Sometimes a little flirt, a short adventure, another broken heart on his list, but never in an exaggerated way.

It was this point, too, which showed that Jess never believed he was made for a "_real_" relationship. Better: a long lasting relationship. There was not one woman in the last couple of years with who he could have imagined to be together with for a long time - in his opinion, and that was the opinion that counted.

But since he met this amazing woman, since he spent almost every evening with her, since he recognized what a smart and interesting whirlwind lived in this woman who appeared almost innocent, since this moment he started to imagine to build something more solid, more stronger with another person.

Just a second ago she told him that she wouldn't drink any wine today and Jess was curious about what she wanted to tell him.

"You're not gonna believe this, but life consist of coincidences." She smiled and asked Zappo at the same time to please bring her a new bottled water.

"You don't have to tell me that. I'm an Italian. Every Italian believes that life _only_ consists of coincidences." It was his turn to give his waiter an imperceptible sign that their meal would be on the house. Bernardo nodded.

"That's good to hear", she smiled again and continued, "Yesterday I met the grandmother of the owner of this restaurant."

Jess nearly choked on his wine but steadied himself fast and looked at her innocently. This disclosure took him really by surprise.

"You don't say … That's really a coincidence. How come you met this woman?" He sounded interested but was careful to don't drop his mask. He liked this little game where she didn't know that HE was the owner himself.

"My friend Riks was born in the same village as Nonna Katalina." She sounded so happy and at the same time she took a bite of her delicious hors d'oevre. A second later a little sigh was heard.

While she ate her first bites Jess tried to imagine how she would react when he would tell her that it was himself who they were talking about.

"I can tell you this woman is the embodiment of a grandmother. My whole life I wished for a granny like her." On her face was a broad smile and she took a sip of her water.

The American in front of him met his grandmother through a young woman named Riks but he never heard of someone called Riks although he should've grown up with her. But he pushed this thought away and concentrated on the important things of this conversation.

_Little Miss United States_ met Nonna Katalina eye-to-eye. And she _liked_ her. Normally when people met his grandmother they told him that the Nonna was a domineering, know-all, aggressive woman with whom someone couldn't really talk to because you were in danger to get hurt. Physical as psychical.

He just finished this thought when she looked up from her meal and smiled at him. Jess saw a gleam in her blue eyes he never saw before.

It was this moment he told himself for once and all that this woman definitely was something very special.

**TBC**

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

_Ciao, figli miei._ - Hello, my children.


	5. Litorale del fiore

**Disclaimer**: I own some of the characters in this story, but that's all. Nothing related to Gilmore Girls belongs to me. I don't know who owns GG now, but whoever it is: Lucky you! 

**A/N**: Sorry guys for the long wait. No excuses, just a hectic life. :D  
Chapter 4 is finally here and I can't wait to know what you think about it. I sooooo hope you like it. hopes  
I can't forget to say THANK YOU to my great, great, great, GREAT beta **_Ling_**, who edited not only this, but all previous chapters, too. LOVE YOU, HON! Thanks soooo much!!! She's doing such a great job. :-  
Enough said for today. As usual: Feedback's making me happy!!! _Verrrrry_ happy!!! ;P

ENJOY!!! waves

**Summary**: Total AU - Lingueglietta was the name of the little, strategic hamlet he lived in and were he grew up. Little did he knew that soon a little eddy wind should blow into his life. And she carried the name Lorelai Gilmore. LIT

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

_Lingueglietta_

**Chapter 4 – Litorale del fiore**

Rory was pissed off. Her head leaned on her hands and she started to massage her temple. This guy from the office for Protection of Historical Monuments was unbearable. For more than an hour now she and Matteo had to listen to his monotonous voice. He spoke about how important it was to keep this part of Italy's history alive – come what may – and that the profit orientated world didn't attach great importance to things like "_The History of Art_" and "_Legacies of the Past_". Besides he wanted to make sure that the Guggenheim knew that the extraordinary structures of this old building mustn't be changed.

"Like we didn't know that before." It was hard for her not to roll her eyes. Carefully she looked at Matteo and saw the exact same expression on his face. Both of them had to hold onto themselves to not jump up and shake some sense into this guy.

Finally – another twenty minutes later – the guy from the Office for Protection of Historical Monuments pressed his die on the papers. After the weekend the construction workers could get down to work.

Two heavy sighs from the colleagues were heard after he left the temporary container-office outside of the building.

"So … hopefully we can start with the construction work after the weekend. Was about time." Matteo nearly lay in his chair but only seconds later he jumped out off of it and grasped his jacket. While he put it on, he smirked at Rory and said, "Joanna and I would be happy if you could come to dinner this weekend. You _have to_ meet my best friend", he paused for the dramatic effect, "and I think you'll like him. And – maybe – you can go on a date … or so …"

"Thanks for the invitation, Matteo," Rory answered with a smile, but continued immediately, "But I've already plans for this weekend. And about your best friend …" her smile grew wider, "Thank you but _no_ thank you. There's already somebody else."

His eyes and ears widened and once again he sat down in his chair.

"Name? Age? Appearance?" He sounded like a desperate housewife.

Her smile didn't leave her face once when she shrugged her shoulders and meant: "I have no idea."

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

Sometimes – not as often as she would like it – Joanna had the opportunity to spend her lunchtime at the restaurant of her husband's best friend.

She and Frederika grew up with Jess. His father and the twin's father already grew up together. James Mariano – called Jimmy – and Benito Torinni were like brothers. Jimmy was one of the few who helped the twins to figure everything out after their father died.

The first person she saw when she stepped into the restaurant was the middle-aged waiter Zappo.

"Buon giorno, Zappo. How're you feeling today? Is your wife in better condition then last week?"

"Buon giorno, Signiora Rovelli. She's much better, thank you." He smiled grateful at her.

"Is Mr. Mariano here?"

"Please, take a seat. I'm gonna get him." At the same time he led her to a small table. Joanna sat down while waiting for the old friend. It just took Jess a few minutes and he was standing in front of her.

"Ciao Joanna," he smiled at her, bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. After that he sat down opposite from her and gave Zappo a sign to bring to two glasses of wine. Then he directed all his attention towards his best friend's wife.

"It's nice to see you here, although I thought you have _so much_ to do with the moving you don't have times for lunch." He smirked and accepted the glasses from his waiter.

"Don't mock me, _Jessepero Antonio_!" she used his full name, "I really don't have that much time. The main reason why I'm here is that I wanted to invite you for dinner this weekend. Hopefully Matteos colleague from the _Guggenheim_ is coming, too. She's a really nice young woman. You _must_ meet her!"

Jess's smirk grew. First and foremost because Joanna never got tired of trying to get him married. And secondly because she reminded him of his plans for the weekend.

"I'm really sorry, _amica piccola_, but this weekend I'm fully booked." His smirk turned into a mischievous one and he took a sip of his wine. Joanna looked at him, first confused and then curious.

"Who's she? What's her name? Where's she from?" She fired a salvo of questions at him.

The young man just shrugged and told her with the same smirk: "No idea."

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

It was Saturday morning and Rory ran nervously from her living room to the kitchen and back again. There she checked – at least for the hundredth time – her make-up again and put on a little bit more of the lip-gloss.

On Thursday evening she sat in the restaurant and met "_Michelangelo's David_" again. This man got more attractive from day to day. Truth to be told there was more than once the image of him in her mind. And it was an image of "_David_" like God had created him.

After their conversation turned to the beautiful area of and around San Remo he invited her on a daytrip on Saturday. Without hesitation Rory agreed.

Today was Saturday. And in fifteen minutes she had to meet him in front of the restaurant. For the last time she checked her make-up in the hallway mirror, grabbed her bag and then left the house.

When she arrived at the restaurant, he was already waiting for her.

"Right on time," he smiled and opened the passenger-door of his black BMW X5 for her.

"Hello to you, too," she replied wit a grin and slipped inside the car. Jess grinned back, closed the door behind her and walked back to the driver's side. Rory watched his every step and grinned like a Cheshire cat. She was going to spend the whole day with this attractive and nice man and better nobody interrupted them.

After he turned on the machine and started to drive, Rory turned her head to him and wanted to know what they were going to do today.

"Do you know '_The Gardens of the Riviera_'?" he wanted to know but she just shook her head. So he started to explain and Rory listened carefully.

"For some hundred years now the local people call the Italian Riviera 'Coast of Flowers' because you can find the most beautiful flowers and rare plants, which represented an inexhaustible source of inspiration for all the great artist of every Epoch. There was nowhere else you could admire the smell of the most beautiful roses, the colors of the most elegant orchids, the sublimity of the rarest palms and the silvery green of the oldest olive trees. And what else would show it more clearly then the _Hanbury-Garden_ in Ventimiglia?"

She liked it when he told her about his home country. When she could see how his eyes glanced out of pride and joy and it seemed like he got happier, just because he could talk about it. She was astonished about the stories he could tell and amazed about all the things he knew. He told her about the history of San Remo and the Italian Riviera the whole drive to Ventimiglia.

Finally he parked between two cars at the side of the street. The sun shone brightly and the sky was the deepest and most beautiful azure Rory had every seen in her life. And it was kind of warm for the middle of October.

Just a few minutes later the two young people stood in the middle of the biggest botanical garden of Europe, which was created in a terraced form. The young American never thought that plants could be such wonderful things.

"Tell me more about the garden. I like to listen to you, when you explain things." she smiled at him.

Jess saw her face and there was no way he would be able to turn her down. So he started: "We're here in one of the most important and well-known botanical gardens of the world. It was established in 1867 by the Hanbury family and a very famous gardener from Heidelberg planned all of it. Shortly after the turn of the century there were already more than 5000 different kinds of plants here. However, after that the two World Wars happened, in 1939 to 1945 the garden got completely destroyed and most of the people forgot about it, till the Italian government bought the park and the Botanical Institute of the University of Genua started to reconstruct the garden. There are about nine hectares of spontaneous plants and another nine hectares are devoted to exotic plants. Moreover a Japanese Garden and Australian forest plants. The Garden is just half of his original size but it's really worth visiting."

Rory just could agree. They strolled through the park downward to the sea and Jess explained the different plants. And the young woman lost herself in the stories he told, the anecdotes he remembered and just this wonderful feeling she had, every time she was near him.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

A few hours later Rory and Jess left the botanical garden and headed for their next destination.

"And where are we going now?" Rory wanted to know. She kind of sounded like a small child.

"You're going to see." was his whole answer. He smirked and continued the drive along the _Via Aurelia_. The young woman tried it again but Jess didn't say a single word.

Finally he parked the car on the side of the street, near a cliff. As far as you could see there were only trees, street and the sea.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, more confused then before, while he helped her out of the car.

"You're really impatient." he laughed and opened the backdoor of the car at the same time. Seconds later, she saw a picnic basket in his hands.

"You really think _here_ is the right spot for a picnic?" she smiled amused, and arched an eyebrow.

"Not here …" he answered and took several steps on the cliff, "… there!" And with this he pointed down. Rory took some steps, too, and looked.

And really: Down there, between rocks and sea, was a small stripe of white sand beach. Only to be found when someone knew about it.

He interrupted her thoughts by holding out his hand to help her climbing down the rocks. She smiled sweetly at him, took his hand and they started to move.

A little bit later, when they sat on the blanket and enjoyed the meal Jess brought, the young woman suddenly slid closer and looked at him.

"I just recognized that I spent more time with you then with many other men, but I still don't know your name."

On his face appeared a mischievous smirk. How fast it happened that two people went from being acquainted with each other to something totally different.

"But it makes me so much more interesting, doesn't it?" he winked and moved closer, too. She smiled shyly and dropped her eyes to the ground. For some moments they were totally quiet.

"My name is Lorelai." She looked up in his eyes.

"Jessepero."

"But everybody calls me Rory."

"Jess," he surely didn't make it easier for her.

"Should I continue with my last name so that our conversation doesn't begin to flag?" Her smile grew and she waited for his reply.

But instead of giving her an answer he leaned forward and kissed her.

**TBC**


End file.
